


sunroof romance

by cork



Category: Captain America, Marvel, Steve Rogers - Fandom, Stucky - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Stucky - Freeform, stucky au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cork/pseuds/cork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't own these characters and constructive criticism and general appreciation / advice is always welcome !!!</p>
    </blockquote>





	sunroof romance

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters and constructive criticism and general appreciation / advice is always welcome !!!

    The spray paint can hiss ceased with the shouts of nearby policemen, leaving Steve’s intricate mural unfinished. His messenger bag clattered to the ground, spilling the various colors he’d spent all but 3 months saving up for. He sprinted down the alley way, footsteps sounding hollow against the pavement and took a quick left. He’d walked here from his apartment but definitely couldn’t run back, eyes frantically scanning the road an immediate idea occurred, a shitty idea but an idea nonetheless. He scrambled up the side of a random vehicle, his bird like frame not leaving any dents and slipped through the open sunroof of a jeep. His body sunk down into the messy backseat, sweating hands sticking to the leather interior trying to quietly calm his breathing despite the elephant of asthma sitting on his chest. His inhaler was deep inside the messenger bag down the alley way he had barely escaped. A slight wheeze escaped his lips and his eyes shut trying to remain calm knowing state of mind is unlikely to soothe his burning lungs.  
    Steve’s breathing had nearly returned to normal when the car door opened, his lungs shot up and the asthma attack went to a new high, and his head was nearly swiveling at the rate of dizziness he’d experienced.

“Jesus! Fuck?! Oh my go- who are you? Jesus? are you okay?” a man twice Steve’s size scrambled into his car half way into the back, feet slipping with anxiety.  
Steve whispered, trying not to stress his shrinking lungs,

“Inhaler- bag down alley- please,” his words came out as more of a whine.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” the larger man looked around rapidly, he anxiously kicked at the pavement, his brain losing any sort of function as he searched for the unlit alley. It wasn't difficult to find there was an unruly stench wafting from it. He sprinted into the shadows once he’d found it and scooped up the bag after toppling over the cans of spray paint. He dashed back to his car and flung the back door open emptying the contents of the bag over Steve’s legs. The inhaler slipped onto the floor of the vehicle and both practically leapt for it bumping heads. Steve was the first one who achieved a solid grip on it however and reached it to his light pink lips and gave two puffs, within twenty seconds the wheezing had receded. They sat in the back of the car, huffing just a little bit in a state of confusion for the next moments, before the owner of the vehicle ran his fingers through his greasy hair coated in gel and the humidity of the night and put it in a bun.

  
“Well, I’m James you can call me Bucky, who are you? How did you get into my car? Why were you in my car?” he chuckled throwing his head back and sighing.

Steve looked up from the floor of the vehicle where he had begun to scramble and try grabbing his stuff, his blue eyes were piercing,

“Here is the thing Bucky,” he propped his head up with his hand, “My name is steve, and I was occupied with painting a wall, illegally, with spray paint when some police officers sort of showed up, and I ran and then I didn’t know where to go. Your sunroof was open, and here we are,” he attempted to cringe and smile at the same time. They both burst into laughter, heaving next to each other in the back seat.

  
“Hey,” says Bucky, “ ‘least you’re cute.” he shook his head and smirked.  
A blush erupted across Steve’s face,

“So, you the typa guy who flirts with everyone or just people who break into your car?” he scoffed, cocking an eyebrow.

  
“Mostly just cute people who break into my car, you’d be surprised how often of an occurrence it is, ya know?”

  
“That’s fair, whaddya say I make it up over dinner? Drinks? A movie? Really it's up to you. I don’t have much leverage here, considering I’m the guy who had an asthma attack in the backseat of your car,”  
Bucky nodded, wide eyed and sarcastically,

“I’m going to have to give it some real thought, this could be the beginning of something stevie,”

“Yeah, sure, okay asshole, I’m going to get my paints, you can put your number in my phone and give it some tough thought while I’m gone, hows that sound to you?”

  
“Perfect,” he flashed a toothy grin at Steve and helped lift him over his lap, “try not to have an asthma attack and die on me while getting your paints, you still owe me that date,”

  
Steve ignored him and walked back down the alley way, leaving his phone in Bucky’s lap. Date, he almost giggled to himself while scooping up the paints back into his bag, tonight wasn’t the night to finish the painting, maybe tomorrow or whenever he wasn't trying to smoothly cope with breaking into someone’s car to avoid the cops. Despite near death, it was turning into quite the positive night for Steve Rogers. On Bucky’s end he was still trying to calm himself from impulsively calling Steve cute. It’s not that it isn’t true he just typically can’t find himself to be that forward with his sexuality, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that the stranger in his car was cute. Whatever it was Bucky was just glad it had actually landed him a date. He entered his number into the phone and looked up as Steve’s lip ring caught the glare of a street lamp. _God_ he thought _lip ring, graffiti, what’s next going to underground bands and clubs for dates?_

  
“So, waddya say I drive you home, and you can try not to break into any more stranger’s cars, how's that sound?”

  
Steve scoffed, “I dunno, can you handle closing your sunroof? it's really not a difficult task, I'm just saying,” he spun around to make eye contact while slinking to the passenger side.  
Neither of them talked much on the way home, it was simply Steve informing Bucky where he lived and comfortable silence. It was turning out to be an exhausting evening for the both of them. even before Bucky had parked Steve was out the door shouting for him to have a good night and learn how to shut his sunroof, he'll text him. As soon as he’d settled on his couch he was drowsy, not caring about the crick he knew it would leave in his back he fell asleep.


End file.
